Wake Me in the Morning
by ashandpika
Summary: When Mal falls into a coma bringing down a killer, Natara blames herself and finds it hard to move on. Will he wake up? Will anything ever be the same again?
1. Chapter 1

Mal's eyes opened and he blinked groggily, seeing nothing but a painfully white blur through his half-opened eyes. Trying to clear hi vision, he blinked furiously, but soon even the bright light was gone and he could see nothing. Before he drifted back into unconsciousness, he thought he could hear Natara calling his name.

But that was 10 years ago. It was now the year 2022 and Mal was still lying in that same hospital, but now he was in his own private room, still hooked up to the machines and still not waking up. It was now 7 o'clock on a Thursday evening and Natara, as he had every evening since the shooting, was sitting by Mal's bed, holding his hand and telling him about her day. Her tears had long since dried up, along with her hope of him waking up, but still she could not bring herself to stop visiting. And that, ultimately, had been what had killed her relationship with Oscar. He had grown jealous, maintaining that Natara spent more time with her comatose partner than him, her boyfriend. For once, Oscar hadn't been wrong, but even unconscious Mal had driven a wedge between them.

"Kai and Amy are having a baby," she told him, smiling weakly, "and they've asked me to be the godmother! I really wish you could have been at the wedding, Mal. It was really nice. Though I still wish Kai hadn't insisted on saying his vows in Klingon… " At that her voice trailed off and she suddenly dropped Mal's hand and went to the window. She ran her hands through her hair in frustration and looked down at her feet, wringing her hands nervously.

"You're never going to wake up, are you?" she asked quietly, casting her eyes over at Mal, who was dwarfed by the towering machinery, his face appearing pale against the crisp, white hospital pillow. Only the steady beeping of the heart monitor replied.

_Mal, Natara and Kosito Shiguro, their latest serial killer, were standing on the roof of the precinct, a bitter wind and heavy rain whipping at their faces. _

"_Kosito," said Natara, taking a tentative step towards him and fighting to keep her voice level, "it's not too late. We can end this without any more needless death. We can even bring your daughter to see you." She knew bringing up his daughter was a risky move, but what choice did she have? Of course it was risky, in their line of work everything was risky, so despite realising that it was a gamble, Natara would never in a million years have predicted what happened next. It only lasted a few seconds, but even ten years on she played it over in her head every night. Every single night. _

"_NO!" screamed Shiguro, waving his medieval crossbow menacingly, tears welling up in his black eyes. "Don't lie! Don't you DARE lie to me. No one can make that happen. No one can bring Nishita back to me!" His hand darted towards the trigger, his eyes growing wild and frenzied. Frozen to the spot, Natara's life flashed before her eyes. But so did Mal. Seeing what was about to happen, he leapt forward, headbutting Shiguro in the stomach and sending them both flying off the roof, the crossbow clattering harmlessly to the floor at Natara's feet. _

"_MAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!" Natara screamed, hurling herself to the floor and peering over the edge, terrified of what she might see. And nothing would ever wipe that image from her memory. Side by side, Mal and Shiguro lay motionless on the pavement, their red blood being washed into the gutter by the unrelenting rain. Shiguro was clearly dead, his brain spilling out into his head, which had cracked like an eggshell on impact. But Mal…. He had landed on Shiguro. The impact had not been as great… Frantically throwing herself down the fire escape, she arrived at Mal's side within seconds, trying desperately to stem the blood flowing out of the gash on the back of his head. _

_Within seconds paramedics and officers swarmed out of the precinct, descending on Mal and Natara and immediately whisking Mal away into an ambulance. Trembling, Natara collapsed in the street, watching the rain wash Mal's blood from her shaking hands. _

_Once the crowds had cleared away, Natara felt a hand on her shoulder. "Nat," whispered Ken, gently, " we're all going to the hospital, if you want to come with. He'll want you there when he wakes up." _


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who read this story, especially to LaylaaSkiesOfBlue, Darkness. Reaper and mozzi-girl for reviewing, I was so happy when I saw them that I decided to write another chapter as soon as possible! Hope you guys like it! **

Agent Natara Williams was awoken from sleep by the same dream that had plagued her the night before. And the night before that. And every night since it happened. She was on the roof again, staring at the crossbow and knowing what was about to happen but remaining completely powerless to stop it. She sat up, unclenching her fists and slowing her breathing again. Rolling back onto her pillow, she cried bitterly into it, angry with herself for her lack of control. She was an FBI agent, for God's sake. Every morning she promised herself it wouldn't happen again, and during the day she could just about convince herself that she was ok, that she had stopped blaming herself, but every night she proved herself wrong. How could she stop feeling so guilty when it was all her fault?

Forcing her eyes shut, she willed herself to go back to sleep, but she knew from experience that that was unlikely. After a few minutes of lying in the darkness, eyes closed tight but mind racing, the phone began to ring. At three in the morning. Swallowing nervously, she remembered what had happened the last time the phone had rung in the middle of the night…

"_Natara? It's Ken… sorry to wake you, but something's happened. Can you get down to the precinct?"_

_Natara felt the blood drain from her face. "Mal? It's not Mal, is it? He isn't…"_

"_No, Nat, it's not Mal. It's Blaise. She's missing. She said something to Amy about following a lead and she's been MIA ever since. We need you here, Natara. If it's to do with the Russian Mafia investigation, she may not have much time…"_

"_Right, yeah," Natara replied, completely lost for words, "I'll be there in ten."_

_Throwing on yesterday's work clothes, Natara hurried to the precinct, her mind racing. Where could Blaise have gone? They had barely had anything to go on, just a few name and- the code. Suddenly Natara realised what she was missing. The code unlocked everything. It wasn't a cryptogram, as they had first thought. It was an Acronym. A.Z.T.C. The Alexander Zvetnev Trading Company. Whipping the car around, Natara pushed her foot down hard on the gas. If Blaise were found at the factory, she would almost certainly be killed…_

_A few moments later, Natara was creeping round the back of the factory, shining a meagre torch beam in front of her that barely made a dent in the dense, black darkness. Suddenly, she heard movement behind her. Spinning around and reaching for her gun, her eyes landed on Blaise Corso, who was crouching behind two oil drums. _

"_Natara!" she hissed, "get down! What are you even doing here?"_

"_What am I doing here? I'm here looking for you! More to the point, what are you doing here without back up? Are you even wearing a vest?"_

_Blaise said nothing, simply glaring back at Natara and pulling her flimsy, cotton cardigan tighter across her chest. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, before Blaise suddenly leapt to her feet, gun raised, and headed towards a back door. _

"_I'm going in." she whispered to Natara, and before she could even try to stop her, Blaise had slipped inside the factory._

_Shocked, Natara took a moment to process. Part of her wanted to run in after Blaise, to get a share of the glory for once but years of training and a level head persuaded her not to. She immediately called for back-up, following protocol, and waited. But she could not just stand there while Blaise was risking her life inside. So she crept in behind her._

_Inside the factory, Natara could hear voices coming from the small office to her right. One of them was that of Blaise Corso._

"_Please," she begged, sounding uncharacteristically afraid, "I can explain! I'm not a cop I-"_

_Then there was a gunshot. The voices had stopped. Quickly ducking behind a stack of boxes, Natara managed to hide herself just in time to avoid the three burly Russian men who emerged from the office. As soon as they were out of earshot, Natara ran to the office door, throwing it open and almost slipping on some spilt liquid as she stepped into the room. The liquid was blood, Blaise Corso's blood, which was still spilling from the gaping hole where her face used to be. Natara checked for a pulse, but there was no point. Blaise was clearly dead._

Shaking the memory from her head, Natara picked up the phone.

"Natara Williams? It's Jacob Fallon. Sorry to call so late, but I need you to help me sneak into the hospital."

Mr. Fallon, I-"

"Please, Jacob."

"Jacob, you're a convicted felon on the run from the police. I'm an FBI agent. I don't think I can-"

"Please," he asked, his voice suddenly growing husky, "I know I'm putting you in a difficult position… but I have to see Mal. I have to see my son. If I never went to see him, and he…" his voice trailed off, leaving nothing but the static on the line to break the charged silence.

"But why now? Why wait ten years?"

"I didn't know," he responded sadly, "I- I only found out yesterday. I've been lying low, Africa, South America… no one told me. If I'd known, I-"

"Ok," Natara replied, moved by the emotion in the old man's voice, "I'll help you. Where are you right now?"

"Outside your apartment building."


End file.
